


Well, Okay Then

by lemonicee



Category: Smallville
Genre: First Time, Humor, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-07-04
Updated: 2006-07-04
Packaged: 2017-11-01 06:42:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,340
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/353271
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lemonicee/pseuds/lemonicee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clark loses his memory. Lex might get buried in a cornfield. It's just another day in Smallville.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Well, Okay Then

## Well, Okay Then

by rachel_shanz

<http://highon-life.livejournal.com/>

* * *

Well, Okay Then

Lex liked to be prepared for everything. Big surprise, right? Okay, fine, not really. But still, it was true. His speed dial contained numbers for everything from his mechanic to the guy who hid the evidence every time something illegal accidentally happened. Or not-so-accidentally happened. Actually, that was a different guy altogether. Anyway, in a perfect world, nothing would be able to take Lex Luthor by surprise. 

But, of course, Smallville was pretty much as far from perfect as you can get. And just when Lex thought he was used to the town's...peculiarities, something like this happened. 

"This" just happened to be Clark Kent. Not that the boy sitting on Lex's couch knew who Clark Kent was. Because, well, Clark seemed to have come down with a nasty case of amnesia. Lex didn't know why this surprised him; after all, this was Smallville. And, as had been established, weird things happened there on at _least_ a daily basis. Sometimes more often than that. 

But the thing was, Clark never seems to be...affected. Not really. Sure, he'd saved everyone in town from sure death and destruction at least once, but he always came out on top. Lex had only seen him seriously injured once, and he recovered from that remarkably fast. 

Clark was definitely affected now, though. So affected that he couldn't even remember his own name, or his mother's, or Lex's, or, hell, even Lana's. Apparently, hard blows to the head are the best way to overcome obsession. Lex would have to remember that, it seemed like the kind of thing that could come in handy. 

Not that he knew for sure that's what caused this little incident. All Clark remembers is waking up by the side of road with no memory. Or clothes, for that matter, but Lex was choosing to not remember that part. Not that he was succeeding, in any capacity. 

"Lex?" a tentative voice asked, and Lex stopped in his tracks, halting his new goal of seeing how many times he could pace across the room before he wore a hole in the carpeting. The expensive, imported carpeting. 

Pulling his attention back to the more at hand part of the situation, Lex turned to face the couch. "Yes, Clark?" 

"Um, are you okay? You seem kind of...not." Clark sounded worried. About him. That wass very sweet, really, but Lex wasn't the one with brain damage. 

"Clark," Lex said, as matter-of-factly as he can manage, "you have no memory and your father is going to murder me." 

"What?" Clark's eyes widened in alarm and Lex winced. That last bit probably would have been best left unsaid. 

"Nothing, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to alarm you." Lex reached out, laying a soothing hand on Clark's shoulder, and was surprised when Clark reacted, leaning into the touch. 

"Lex?" Clark's voice was quiet and, when Lex looked at him, there was uncertainty shimmering in his green eyes. "Can I ask you a question?" 

"Of course. Anything. Are you remembering something? Because it would probably help if we wrote it down." Lex dropped his hand from Clark's shoulder and moved away to get a pen and paper from his desk. He'd read somewhere that documenting everything amnesia victims remembered, as they remembered it, helped speed the process along for...well, for some reason he couldn't recall right at that very moment. The point was, if Clark was remembering things, they should be writing them down, and maybe making flow charts or graphs or some other form of visual aid. 

Strong fingers closed around his wrist, stopping him. "Lex, wait. It's not that. I didn't... I still don't remember anything." 

Fuck. He hadn't been lying when he said Jonathan Kent was going to kill him. A shotgun blast to the chest wasn't really how he'd planned to go out, but hopefully they would at least have the decency not to bury him in a cornfield. 

"Lex?" Clark's voice broke through his train of thought, pulling his attention back to the boy sitting on his couch, looking more lost than Lex had ever seen him. "I just..." 

"What is it, Clark?" Lex asked, genuinely curious. Clark's hand was damp where it was wrapped around his wrist, but his face was set in nervous determination. 

"I was just... I was wondering if we..." And before Lex knew what was happening, before he could even _blink_ , Clark was on his feet and his mouth was coming down over Lex's, warm and soft as he licked insistently at Lex's lips. 

Well, okay then. 

Oh god, this was wrong. It didn't matter how badly Lex wanted this, how badly he'd _been_ wanting this. What mattered was that Clark wasn't himself, he didn't know who he was and Lex had been the first person he'd come across. This was just Clark's gratitude and fear manifesting themselves in a very interesting way. That was all. 

Lex pushed at Clark gently, trying to extradite himself from his friend's grasp. It didn't work, of course. Clark had always been strong, too strong, and now that he couldn't remember to control his strength, Lex had no chance of escaping. 

"Lex," Clark moaned, pressing closer. Fuck, the way Clark sounded when he said his name, the hot press of Clark's body against his own, this was every wet dream Lex had had for the last two years coming true. 

Lex was a lot of things, but superhuman was not among them, and Clark's hand, sliding under Lex's shirt to press warm against his skin, was his undoing. He groaned and opened his mouth, granting Clark's tongue access to his own. Clark took it eagerly, licking and biting at Lex's mouth as he propelled them gently backwards, not stopping until Lex's back hit the wall. 

Lex gasped, pulling back in surprise at the impact, but Clark didn't even slow down, he just used the opportunity to get both his shirt and Lex's off so fast that Lex barely even saw him move. Lex would worry about that later, though, because right now Clark was licking a hot stripe down his throat to suck at his pulse point and Lex was pretty sure his brain cells were dying one by one with every flick of Clark's tongue against his skin. 

Lex skimmed his hands over Clark's back, amazed at the warm expanse of golden skin that was suddenly available beneath his fingers. He had wanted this, wanted Clark, for so long. Ever since that day by the river, when he'd woken up, coughing water from his lungs, to see the most beautiful boy he'd ever laid eyes on staring down at him in concern. 

"Lex, please," Clark's voice was raw, the edges ragged with need, and Lex tightened his arms, pressing them together until they were skin to skin. 

"What do you want, Clark? Anything." And Lex meant it. God help him, he meant every word. 

Clark was breathing hard, his heart pounding against Lex's chest, and his eyes were nothing but pupil, with only a sliver of vibrant green ringing them. "I want you. I want..." 

And then he was on his knees, pulling frantically at Lex's pants until they opened with a sharp ripping sound and slid easily down over his hips. "Want to taste you," Clark murmured, flicking his tongue out to wet his lips. Fuck, this boy really was going to be the death of him. Lex knew it. 

The last thought to cross his mind, before Clark leaned forward and swallowed Lex's cock into the slick heat of his mouth, was that he really hoped Clark got his memory back soon. 

Because if not, there was no way in hell he was avoiding Mr. Kent's shotgun. But, on the upside, his last few hours would include what was shaping up to be the best sex he'd had in a very, very long time. 

Maybe being buried in a cornfield wouldn't be so bad, after all. 


End file.
